


Storge

by The_Infinant_One



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Child!Peter, Dad!Wade, Deadpool Thought Boxes, False Memories, Fluff, Gen, Memory Loss, More fluff than angst, Peter’s a little shit, Wade and weasel low key co-parent Peter, its hard being a single parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 15:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Infinant_One/pseuds/The_Infinant_One
Summary: His son, Peter, stood in front of him looking more confused and frightened with each passing second.The thing was, Wade didn’t have a son, so who was this kid that just appeared in his living room?A short story where a twelve-year-old Peter appears in Wade's life with no logical reason, claiming that Wade is his actual dad.A short fic with lots of fluff, adventures, some angst, and a rocky father-son relationship





	Storge

**Author's Note:**

> I can't get enough of writing child Peter with fatherly figure Wade, I love that dynamic so much. This is a little story that's been rolling around in my brain for a while. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> White voice is in italics, and Yellow voice is in bold italics

A soft thud in his living room startled Wade into consciousness. His guns were out and aimed at the door before his eyes were fully open, and the voices in his head, White and Yellow he liked to call them, were already rambling on at high speeds. Usain Bolt was a snail in comparison.

  
_**Maybe all the shit on your floor was tired of your lazy ass and took a physical form to clean itself**,_ yellow told him. 

_Or maybe that man you neglected to kill four years ago finally found you,_ White added logically. 

“Shut up,” Wade hissed, getting out and tiptoeing to the door, only to fling it open with a loud thud for the element of surprise at the last minute. 

For once in his life, both Wade and his voices shut up. 

In front of him stood a small child with round, chubby cheeks and curly brown hair looking at him looking not at all phased. Maybe the chubby cheeks were because of the bagel that the boy was holding inches away from his mouth, but that was beside the point. The point was that there was a random ass kid in an oversized white t-shirt in his living room. 

_Ask his name_

** _Ask how he found a fresh bagel in all that mold_ **

“Why the fuckcicles are you in my living room!?” Wade exclaimed, ignoring his voices and raising his gun. 

The boy backed up a bit in surprise, but he still didn’t look scared. Confused would be a more accurate term. 

“I… slept here?” The boy’s voice was soft and hesitant.

“Who are you!?”

“Dad? Dad, what’s wrong?” the kid looked at Wade with wide, worried eyes. 

Wade couldn’t respond. He blinked and blinked, thinking this was all a bad dream, but he wasn’t waking up. 

_Dad????_

** _Ha! All that fucking you did years ago finally bit you in the ass!_ **

_That’s not your son he’s too cute to be your kid!_

The boy went from hesitant to downright angry. “Are you fucking drunk again?”

Wade didn’t lower his gun, but he did have a small conversation in his mind with his voices. Going over the past week attempting to remember anything that struck him as unusual, nothing came up. He went to Sister Margret’s every night as always. Other than seeing Weasel’s hair washed and clean, there was nothing unusual about the place. He decapitated some heads, but none of those people seemed out of the ordinary. He didn’t anger anybody at the place where he bought taco’s, so really, he couldn’t think of anybody he hurt so much that they’d abuse a kid and place them in this shithole.  
“You’re drunk again, aren’t you?” Peter narrowed his eyes. “Whatever. I’m going to take a fucking shower.” 

** _Well he has your mouth _ **

_At least he doesn’t add unnecessary letters to the end of his curse words_

** _Hey! The more creative the cursing, the more fun we have_ **

Well, Wade remembered not drinking last night, and he made it a rule not to drink before 12 in the afternoon, but this called for a couple shots of rum.

  
\----

Wade didn’t get too drunk, cause the last thing he wanted was to be judged by this kid. Somehow being called drunk by a strange child was somehow hurtful.  
It wasn’t until his third shot when a memory popped up into his mind. A brief memory but one very vivid and detailed that he slammed the shot glass down, breaking the glass in the process. 

_Peter_

The child’s name was Peter. He remembered in first-person view of him being in an apartment. One of his safe houses and he was at the kitchen table. He saw a birthday cake. A blue and red birthday cake that he knew he made with a number eight candle on it and Peter was there blowing out the flame with a grin on his face. Wade remembered laughing. 

But he couldn’t remember ever being in his apartment with a child.  
  
Fuck it. He downed a fourth shot before he decided to deal with this situation. Whoever this kid- thing was, he needed it figured out ASAP. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on my base work right now, but if this gets some positive attention then I'll definitely continue posting chapters. Kudos, thoughts, and comments are highly welcomed and appreciated!
> 
> If anyone's curious as to the title of the story, storge means 'Love of the Child'. "Storge is the love parents naturally feel for their children. It’s based on natural feelings and effortless love. Storge is the love that knows forgiveness, acceptance, and sacrifice. It is the one that makes you feel secure, comfortable and safe" (Thoughtcatalog).  
Here's the link to the seven types of love  
https://thoughtcatalog.com/rania-naim/2016/02/the-7-kinds-of-love-and-how-they-can-help-you-define-yours-according-to-the-ancient-greeks/


End file.
